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lxvemaze · 12 days ago

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THE ART OF LOVE

chapter 016.

series masterlist

<<previous chapter | epilogue

SERIES SYNOPSIS. when chris texted an artist he found on instagram with the hopes of them designing an album cover for him, he never expected to fall head over heels in love with them.

PAIRING. bangchan x reader

WC. 4k

CHAPTER TAGS. written

CHAPTER WARNINGS. written from bangchan's pov, one out of pocket jisung comment (but not really), sad sad sad, but then happy happy happy, i'm delusional so i gave art girl my favorite coffee order

A/N. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER I'M LITERALLY GOING TO CRYYYYYYYYY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS SERIES IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME. I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE THIS CHAPTER AND KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE EPILOGUE 🫶(also, i'm sorry if this is lowkey ass, i had to rewrite it bc my laptop hates me)

Cold was the only word on Chris’ mind as he woke from his nap in the green room. The group was doing an early-morning promotion, and Chris had gotten far less sleep the previous night than he would have liked. But how could he have gotten any sleep in this city? How could he have gotten any sleep knowing that he’s in the same city as her?

Every day of the past year, Chris had been doing nothing more than simply going through the motions. Every moment felt like it was draped in a haze, his life that was once clear and bright now felt blurred and dull. Chris’ whole being was constantly consumed by the guilt of knowing that she was out there, thinking about him.

He’d never intended for it to go as far as it did. When he first messaged her, he’d just recently been broken up with, and was trying to work through those emotions through the creation of a new album. The cover of the album was supposed to be symbolic, a visual representation of him letting his former lover go. How could he have expected to fall in love with the person he paid to depict it?

Even after his company had told him that they didn’t approve the artist, that she was a liability, that she could damage his career, he still held on. He didn’t tell her until it was too late. And that selfish action was enough to ruin not just himself, but also his younger brothers who’d grown to care for her like family, His best friend Hyunjin who loved her the same as Chris. But the worst part of it was that he knew it had ruined her the most.

Chris tried to tell himself that his feelings for her were just a fluke, that he was just lonely or desperate or something. That he’d get over her eventually. But how could that be true when a whole year later, she was still the only thing on his mind?

Chris went throughout his day as mindlessly as he usually did, wordlessly letting the stylists fix him up, bringing life back into his face that had slightly sunken and paled over the past twelve months. He gave polite smiles to the staff, answered interview questions as intelligently as his dazed brain could, and tried his best to be a good leader to his brothers- an area he felt he’d been trying to improve in lately.

After she left, Chris’ relationship with his entire group had been strained. His actions had tainted the smart, strong, caring older brother image that they’d had of him in their minds, and he was doing all he could to restore it. Oddly enough, his relationship with Hyunjin had improved greatly after the events of the previous year. They had a certain understanding of each other's actions that the others simply couldn’t see.

The younger members had slowly come back around to Chris- Jeongin slowest of all. Jeongin arguably had the closest relationship with The Artist, and Chris’ selfishness had hurt him so badly, Chris wasn’t sure that their relationship would recover.

And yet, slowly but surely, Jeongin came back around to him. In fact, Jeongin had been on Chris’ tail all morning long. Over the twelve hours that the group was on set, Jeongin had been by Chris’ side for roughly eleven of those hours. The two were planning on going to some cafe that Jeongin had recommended after the long day of promotions. If Chris were to tell the truth, he’d say that he was much too tired to go anywhere after promotions. He wanted a nap. SO badly. But fixing his strained relationship with Jeongin took precedence over his already suffering sleep schedule.

“You ready to go?” Jeongin peeked his head into the green room as Chris slowly rose from his seat, groaning and stretching his aching limbs. “Good thing we’re going to a cafe. You look like you could use some coffee.” Jeongin giggled as Chris followed him out of the small room and into the hallway. Chris nodded along, rubbing his eyes and letting the younger man lead him towards the front door, silently thanking him with a nod as Jeongin handed him a mask, immediately placing it over his face before they exited the building.

Chris stared out the window from the backseat of one of the staff members' cars, absently wondering if she was sitting in one of the dozens of cars they sped past. Chris didn’t know what he’d do if he saw her. Maybe he’d turn and run the other direction, maybe he’d immediately call his management to tell them that he’s quitting to run away with her. Or maybe he’d just stand there like an idiot.

The events of the past year had sparked a lot of conversation between the staff and members of the group, especially with their contract renewal coming up in just a few weeks. No one wanted another “Artist situation” as the staff were calling it. Chris didn’t know what they were thinking. Whether it be changing their contract to allow dating, or putting them on an even stricter ban, he didn’t much care. He genuinely didn’t know if he’d be able to find it in him to love anyone else for a long time.

On the other side of the car, Jeongin was practically vibrating with excitement as he stared at his phone, scrolling through the DMs he’d sent to his favorite person. He quietly giggled to himself as he opened his navigator app and saw that they were a mere ten minutes from reuniting with the person that had consumed their every waking moment of the past year.

“What are you laughing at?”

Jeongin reflexively shoved his phone in his pocket, folding his hands on his lap before looking up at his older brother in what he hoped was a very non-suspicious way. “...Nothing. Jisung texted me something.”

“Of course.” Chris chuckled, leaning his head against the window again. “What did he say this time?”

“Uh…” Jeongin took his phone out of his pocket, pretending to scroll through his texts for a moment while he attempted to think of something that could have come from Jisung’s foul mouth. “Something about…sucking dick?”

Jeongin saw Chris nod from the corner of his eye, sighing internally that he hadn’t seemed to pick up on what was happening yet.

The truth was, Chris had noticed Jeongin acting weird- Hyunjin too, for that matter. He figured it was just the time of year. It was just after the one-year anniversary of her leaving, and everyone had been dealing with it in their own way.

Minutes later, the staff member in the driver's seat pulled to the sidewalk and informed the two that they had arrived. They thanked the driver and stepped out of the car, looking around and taking in the sight of all the boujee boutiques, cafes, and bakeries on the downtown street.

“Is this it?” Chris pointed just down the street to one of the cuter shops of the street; a quaint little cafe/bookstore combo with numerous plants in the window and comfy looking seats inside. Jeongin nodded with a lopsided grin plastered on his face. The two started towards the cafe before Jeongin stopped in his tracks, smacking his forehead with his palm and exclaiming,

“Ohh wait a second!”

Chris turned to his younger friend, quirking an eyebrow at him as Jeongin looked down the street behind him. “What?”

“I forgot that I need to grab…a thing…from a store. You go ahead and order, I’ll be right back! Get me a peppermint frappuccino!” Jeongin called to Chris as he ran back down the street the way they came, leaving Chris absolutely dumbfounded at his friend's sudden exit.

Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking in the direction Jeongin ran, and back over his shoulder to the cafe, mentally debating on whether to chase after his mischievous friend or to just go into the cafe and order an americano before he fainted in the middle of the sidewalk.

After little mental debate, he decided on the latter. The inside of the cafe was just as charming as the outside, comfortable mismatched heavily-cushioned seats surrounded several dark brown tables. Tall bookshelves adorned every wall, with paintings made by local artists filling any gaps left by the shelves.

There was a fairly long line stemming from the coffee bar in the back of the shop, Chris noticed as he stopped behind a girl with unnaturally colored hair that the menu didn’t have Jeongin’s requested order. He figured he’d just order a hot chocolate with a peppermint espresso shot.

The line was moving slowly, even though people sat down to claim a table after they ordered, it felt like the line wasn’t progressing at all. Chris glanced around the shop again and at all the different patrons scattered around. It seemed to be a hot spot for the local hipsters. As Chris’ gaze danced over all the different people in line, his eyes were quickly drawn to the keychain on the bag of the girl in front of him.

When Hyunjin had taken her to the art museum back in Seoul, she’d gotten one that looked exactly like it. She said it was her favorite thing that she’d bought during her whole trip. Chris hadn’t realized the line had moved on without him until the person behind him tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to move forward.

Before he knew it, it was the girl with the colored hair’s turn to order. Apparently, she needed a moment as she stood in silence for a moment, looking up at the menu behind the counter, much to the chagrin of the barista at the register.

“Could I please get a lavender oat milk latte?”

It felt like Chris had been decked in the face with a bag of cinder blocks as she spoke.

Any and all thoughts had immediately abandoned his mind as the barista rang her up and she thanked the worker in the sweet tone that Chris knew all too well.

Chris’s heart ached at the sweet smile on her face as she turned around. However, the smile quickly faded as she saw the man that had been standing behind her. The two stood in equally stunned silence as they took each other in. Chris’ eyes trailed down The Artist’s frame, quickly taking in the fact that she was paler and thinner than he’d remembered. The Artist noticed the same about him.

“Excuse me, you two are holding up the line.” The barista spoke from behind the counter, her annoyed tone prompting The Artist to turn around and flash her an apologetic smile, and gently place her hand on Chris’ bicep, leading him out of the line.

Chris’ eyes didn’t leave her face as she was looking seemingly anywhere but him. She cleared her throat nervously, Chris’ eyes burning into her face.

“Do you wanna sit down?”

Chris nodded before she silently led him to the table for two by the front window, placing her bag over the back of one of the seats and sitting down, folding her hands on top of the table.

Chris sat across from her, and the two sat in silence.

Chris could hear her shaky uneven breaths, and noticed her folded hands shaking on the table. It took everything in his to not reach over and hold them in his own.

“I saw the painting.”

Her eyes glanced up to meet his as he spoke, but she looked away as quickly as their eyes met. “I was hoping you had.”

Another bout of silence.

“So…” Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair before mirroring her position and folding his hands on the table, his fingers mere centimeters from hers. “What are you doing here?”

“Well…I was supposed to meet a potential client.” She was a lot quieter than Chris remembered.

“That could’ve been dangerous.”

“Yeah, well…I haven’t been out much lately. Figured this would be a good opportunity.”

More silence followed her statement, the pit of guilt in Chris’ stomach clawing at him from the inside. Her reasoning for being here, her visibly sunken appearance, her hair…

“You changed your hair.” She looked up at him again, her eyes remaining on his this time as she reached up instinctively to touch the colored locks, a small smile gracing her face.

“Oh yeah…Just trying something out, I guess.”

“I like it.”

The smile quickly dropped from her face at Chris’ words, her eyes looking down at her lap once more. Chris sighed and leaned back in his seat. What the hell should he say? ‘I’m sorry’? ‘I still love you’? ‘Let’s run away together’? Although he sincerely felt every one of those statements, none of them could express how he felt. None of those would make up for the pain and sadness that he’d inflicted on her, himself, and those closest to him. He was stuck. This has to be hell.

“So, is your company not as fucked up anymore, or are you breaking the rules just by sitting here right now?”

Her words caused an unprompted laugh to escape Chris’ mouth. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, taking a steadying breath before looking back at the woman across from him. She was still so pretty.

“No, I probably shouldn’t be here right now. Jeongin and I were just going to get a cup of coffee and-” Jeongin. Of course he did. “That little fucker” Chris sighed, looking out the window for any sign of the scheming young man.

The Artist across from him stared in confusion, “Jeongin? Where is he?”

“He…went to grab something before coming here. I don’t know. We’re here for a schedule and probably forgot something at home.”

“Chris…are we just not going to talk about-”

“Let’s just leave.”

“...What?” She stared at him completely dumbfounded by his words, his eyes staring intently into hers, completely unwavering.

“Let’s go.” He repeated softly, reaching his hands over to grab her own. “I can’t do this anymore. You have no idea how badly I missed you. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. I have spent every minute of every day regretting the fact that I didn’t fight for you. The regret of putting my career and my company before you has been eating me alive. I thought I could get over it, but I can’t. Seeing you again made me realize that. So let’s just leave.”

“Chris, you can’t do that to the kids.”

“We’ll take them with us. All of us can just live together in a secluded cabin somewhere.”

“You know we can’t do that. I know you know we can’t.”

Chris sighed and ran his thumbs over her knuckles, her bright pink nail polish peeking through the gaps of his hand. “I know. I just can’t say goodbye again.”

“Chris, I love you. I could never stop loving you. I just don’t know what to do.” Chris’ hands left at the Artist’s words. His eyes hadn’t left hers since he started speaking, and he’d noticed the tears starting to well in the corners.

“I’m supposed to be renewing my contract soon. I’ll tell them…I’ll convince them to let this happen. I don’t give a fuck about the company anymore. I can live without them. I can just start over. But I can’t live without you and start over with someone else.”

“God, Chris, I want nothing more than to be with you. But the last thing I ever wanted was for me to hold you back in any way.” She took a deep breath, wiping the tears away from her eyes. She opened her mouth to continue, but the two were startled out of their seats by a loud pounding on the window next to them. They turned to see the source of the noise, and saw Jeongin pressed against the window, waving excitedly. As soon as he was sure the two saw him, he immediately ran into the shop and made a beeline for The Artist, giving her a tight hug that nearly knocked her out of her seat.

“I missed you so much.” The boy cried as she stood up to return his hug properly, neither of them caring about the other patrons of the cafe side-eyeing them.

“I knew it was you.” Her voice cracked as her arms tightened around him, not minding the feeling of his shoulders shaking with his sobs, or the warm tears on her shoulder as he pressed his face into her neck.

Chris watched with a sad smile on his face as he watched the two embrace. Eventually, Jeongin pulled away from The Artist and turned to Chris, stretching his arm out, prompting Chris to wrap his arms around the two people who meant the most to him. His whole world.

“We’ll make it work.” Chris sighed as he pressed his lips into The Artist’s hair. “We can’t lose you.”

ONE YEAR LATER…

“Chan! Where’s my suitcase?” Jeongin called out from the living room, the sound of him stomping around the room was clear even where Chris stood in the kitchen.

“Minho put all the suitcases in the foyer.” Chris replied as he rushed to finish packing the bag of snacks from home for their long journey.

“Chan! Do you have an extra tote bag?” Felix asked as he passed through the kitchen.

“I think in the laundry room.”

“I don’t know where that is! Why the hell did you have to move into this giant house?”

“Because, they’re leaving room for growth. Chan and Art Babe go at it like, 24/7. They’re gonna end up with twelve kids by the time they’re forty. Surprised they haven't made an announcement yet. Laundry room is all the way down the hall and to the left, by the way.” Jisung mused as he strolled in, taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Shut up, Jisung!” Hyunjin yelled from the top of the staircase.

“I’m home!” A voice called from the foyer, prompting Chris’ head to pop up like a meerkat. Felix and Jisung rolled their eyes affectionately at their older brothers’ demeanor before Felix went to find the laundry room.

“Speak of the devil.” Jisung grinned, taking a large bite of apple as she entered the room, placing the grocery bags that adorned her arms on the counter, rolling her eyes at her friend.

“I don’t wanna know.” She sighed and she walked around the counter, placing a kiss to Chris’ cheek before washing her hands. “You guys heading to the airport soon?”

“Yeah, in about ten minutes, as long as everyone can find their stuff in time.” He ran his hand across her lower back as he passed her on his way to the pantry.

“Alright, I’m gonna go wait in the foyer just in case you two decide to start banging on the counter.” Jisung pulled a faux-disgusted face at the two, tossing his finished apple in the garbage and promptly making his exit.

“He loves us, really.” The Artist sighed as she dried her hands. Chris hummed in agreement and he shoved the last few items in the bag and zipped it up. “Oh!” She exclaimed, rushing to the fridge, taking out eight small tupperware and sorting them out on the counter. “I made meals for you all to eat on the plane. I know it’s not a long flight, but I know the kids all hate that airline’s food, so I figured they’d appreciate it.”

Chris smiled softly as his lover as she spoke enthusiastically about the individual meals that she’d prepared for their friends, the diamond on her left hand shimmering in the light. They’d been living together for six months now, and had been cherishing every second of it. Chris was thankful for every second that he got to spend with her. Just ten months ago, he had fought his company tooth and nail for his and his members rights to their own privacy. With the majority of their staff backing them and the fact that they’d all agreed to not renew their contracts if the company didn’t agree, there was nothing left for them to do.

After they’d successfully gotten their conditions written into their contract, Chris and his Artist were finally free to love each other as they always had. She moved into an apartment in Seoul a few months later, and not long after that, she and Chris bought their first house together. Just a week after that, Chris proposed. After a year of being apart, they realized that they didn’t want to waste a single second.

“Chan! The van’s here!” Changbin poked his head into the kitchen, giving a little wave to The Artist.

“Hey! Tell everyone to come in here and grab their dinner.” She addressed Changbin, who immediately nodded and gave her a little salute before turning and relaying the message to the others. She turned to her fiance, who was leaning on the counter, his eyes still on her. She leaned over the counter and gave him a soft kiss, bringing her hand up to run her hands through his curls that he’d been taking such great care of lately. “You’ll make sure they get their dinners into their carry-ons?”

“Of course.” He whispered against her lips, pressing a short kiss to them before pulling away and grabbing the tupperware marked with his name.

All at once, the seven other men in the house stormed into the kitchen like a stampede. One-by-one, they grabbed their dinners and hugged The Artist, bidding her goodbye and telling her they loved her before rushing out of the house and into the van that awaited them outside.

“I put the brushes I borrowed back into your art room, and I noticed you had some brushes soaking, so I put them on the mat to dry.” Hyunjin, who was the last to leave, informed The Artist and they embraced.

“I appreciate you. See you when you get back.” She patted his back and smiled sweetly at him as they pulled back. He returned the smile and turned to leave, giving her one last wave over his shoulder before exiting the home.

Chris waited before he heard the front door close before walking around the counter to his lover and pulling her in for a tight hug, his hands holding her close as his lips pressed into her hair, breathing in her scent before he had to leave. “I love you so much, my beautiful girl.”

She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, smiling at him, her gaze filled with nothing but adoration. She leaned in once more to give him another lingering kiss, making sure she wouldn’t forget the taste of his lips anytime soon. “I love you, too. My beautiful man.”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” His hands went down to her own, holding them gently, his thumb running over the beautiful rock on her finger.

“Go have fun. Keep an eye on those kids.”

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her cheek quickly, grabbing the tupperware back off the counter. “You know I will. I love you.”

“I love you. Now get out of my house.” She gave his back a light push and followed him to the front door as he giggled.

“Hey.” He turned around, his hand on the door handle. “It’s our house.”

She couldn’t resist pecking him once more as he opened the front door. “Our house.”

He gave her a look that could only be described as pure love before turning and rushing towards the van. She stood out on the front porch, seeing the boys in the van waving at her through the window as the van pulled away from the sidewalk and drove off.

Her heart didn’t ache as the van drove out of sight. Because she knew that they would come back. That she’d never have to truly be without them again. Because they were family. And no one could take that away.

TAGLIST.

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#stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #skz fic #skz fanfic #bangchan x readet #bangchan fic #bangchan fanfic #stray kids x reader

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

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Hello! Could I request Hades and Poseidon (separatly) fell in love with dummy nymph!reader, who just doesn't notice their feelings, please? (◕‿◕)♡

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Hades and Poseidon Name: {Character} with a Oblivious Nymph! Reader Requester: Anonymous

A/N: My first Record of Ragnarok piece in quite a while, and thankfully, this was quite funny to write. This is so full of fluff and crack that it makes broken attics look nice😂

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💀 Oh sweet mercy, this guy loves yet hates your obliviousness

💀 When he first met you, he would joke around about how you were so oblivious to things, but, when he tried to confess his feelings towards you for the first time and you just replied with something so platonic-sounding, he froze

💀 Your obliviousness was going to be a hint of a problem now

" My dear, have you ever thought about having a relationship with someone? " " I guess so, yeah. Why? " " How would you feel about courting with me by your side? " " Aw! You would help me with courting! You're so sweet, Hades! "

💀 Grabbing your hand when you were scared didn't get you to realize his feelings, even when he gave you the biggest hint while still hiding the straight-forward admission, you didn't get it

💀 Hades does understand that, because your a nymph, you haven't gotten that much experience when it comes to anything romantic, as many believe you only are attracted to things relationships non-romantically

💀 Zeus and Aphrodite have tried getting you guys to get together for centuries, from trying to have you guys go on a blind-date to having you literally go on a real-date with him, you always stayed blind to the real emotions hidden behind his gestures

💀 So, unsurprisingly, Hades eventually does have to straight-up admit his feelings, leaving you flustered and a hint embarrassed

" Y/N, I must admit that I am quite fond of you. So fond that I must ask, would you like to be in a courting relationship? " " You fond someone that wants to court me? Aw, Hades, how swe- " " Not someone else. Me, my dear. " " Oh... how long have you liked me like this?! " " About the past four centuries. " " Oh sweet seraphs... "

🔱 Poseidon is not amused at all.

🔱 He is not fond of people not understanding what he said, and it doesn't help with the fact that he's very blunt and honest when it comes to his words

🔱 When he first met you, you were speaking to your boss, Aphrodite, and when he arrived to speak with her about the waves causing damages to the nearby forests

🔱 That was when he noticed how oblivious you were to pretty much everything

🔱 Aphrodite eventually noticed how Poseidon seemed to soften with his actions whenever you were around, and she was the one who prompted him to finally begin trying to tell you about his feelings, unaware that you had no clue how to take a hint

" Y/N, would you like to accompany me to Zeus' reunion next week? As my date, of course. " " Oh, yeah! It'd be fun to spend some time with my best friend! "

🔱 Okay, ouch.

🔱 It took him only two tries before he began to lose his already strained patience, and he burst that bubble the third time you pushed his advances off as a friendly confrontation

" Would you like to accompany me to Hades' meeting tomorrow afternoon, Y/N? " " Of course! Spending time with my favorite friend is amazing- " " Not as a friend. As a future spouse. " " Huh? "

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alchemistc · 1 month ago

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Harry twirls a lock of dark curls between his fingers. Tips his chin against Tommy's head and stares up at the ceiling. He considers not asking, this time.

The sex is good, and Tommy's funny, and if he closes his eyes he could imagine there could be something - Tommy twitches and shifts his hand lower like he might be gearing up for another round, and it breaks the fantasy. That's new.

"Tell me about him," Harry says, and Tommy's eyes tip up to glare at Harry.

"Making an assumption, there," Tommy warns, but Harry just raises an eyebrow. Six years of this and Harry knows better than to expect Tommy would show up at his door for any reason other than to get his mind off of something - someone else.

"So we're both asses," Harry intones. He needs to call the super, see what they'll do about the water stain on his ceiling. "Tell me about him."

Tommy sighs. Twists, drifts away to the second pillow, and Harry's done this enough times not to mourn the loss, exactly. It's not like he's ever told Tommy -

"He's too young. Impulsive. New."

Harry fails to hold in his snort. "Okay."

Tommy at 34 had been a fucking hurricane. Newly out, no holds barred, he'd jumped right into the deep end and let the storm whirl him around. They'd been friends, for the first six months, Harry a watchful presence while Tommy made it his mission to be more than the guy in the dark corner getting a risky blowie fifteen minutes before last call. To be out - not loud, that wasn't Tommy's style - but to at least be himself.

He'd lasted two months in a real, actual relationship before he'd shown up at Harry's door with a six pack and a box of condoms.

"He looks at me and sees this - cool suave guy -" Harry shifts, nearly interrupts because that guy is exactly what Tommy projects, even if he doesn't mean to. Fucking Scorpios. "- and I was falling for him."

Yeah. Harry can extrapolate from that. Tommy fell ass over tea kettle and then got spooked.

"He's just so fucking open with himself. No brainworm goes untouched, and he can't hide his emotions for shit, and he's so goddamn stubborn and so goddamn ready to bulldoze through every hurdle ahead without looking back at the damage, and..." Tommy trails off. One hand shifts down to hitch the duvet up over his hips, and Harry adds the duvet cover to his list of laundry. "I gave him too many chances to slow down on his own."

"What, did the kid ask you to marry him or something?"

"He's the Himbo," Tommy retorts, and it takes Harry a moment to make the connection. He whistles through his teeth just to watch the scowl fall into place on Tommy's face. "And the connection freaked him out so much he asked me to move in. To his bachelor pad loft." Harry waits. "It has two balconies, Harry. Two."

"...he knows you have a mortgage, right?"

Tommy shoves at his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We're just - the timing wasn't right."

"Did you want it to be?"

That's always the thing he ends up hung up on, in Harry's experience. Tommy's scared out of his mind to be the right person at the wrong time. Always has been. There's probably some mommy or daddy issues hidden in there somewhere he hasn't explored. Tommy's eyes drift up to the water stain. "Don't these apartments all have the same layout?"

This is the shove-off. This is his hint not to push. "Yes, and I really don't want to ask how the upstairs neighbor flooded their bedroom. Back to the guy." He's never been one for acknowledging unspoken cues.

"Buck," Tommy says, and the name sounds harsh in his mouth.

"Buck," Harry repeats, and pictures Tommy's usual type - tall, light-eyed, more smiles than common sense. There was always something distinctive, too - freckles, a scar, weird shaped ears.

"I miss him."

It doesn't hurt the way it had those first few years, when Harry was convinced that eventually Tommy would see him as more than a friend to blow off steam with. Still. There's a twinge there, beneath his rib cage.

"So stop missing him. That's an option, isn't it?"

And Tommy does that thing - that frustrating, enchanting thing, where his whole body seems to hold the emotion flickering across his face. "I walked out on him. I dug the damn knife in just to make sure he wouldn't try to convince me to stay."

"Would you have? Stayed?"

Tommy's quiet. The sweat has cooled on his skin, and the lights coming in through his window dance across the skin of his shoulder, his chest, that stupid thick neck of his.

The phone he left on the bedside table is dark, but that doesn't stop Tommy's gaze flicking to it.

"Cards on the table, Tommy?" Harry sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose. "Once upon a time, I convinced myself you were it for me. That I'd be satisfied with what you gave me, and I wouldn't ask for more. I cut you out of my life for eight months when I realized how fucking dumb that was."

Tommy frowns. Harry hadn't really ever expected him to notice.

"I've seen you through shitty relationships, and one sided ones. I've heard all the bullshit you and Greg put each other through. I've been there for every fucking heartache."

And he'd offered up his body like it was absolution for always being fucking thrilled when a relationship ended.

"You called me Evan," Harry murmurs, and Tommy's eyes go wide. That's never fucking happened before. This thing wouldn't have lasted nearly as long if he'd ever heard another man's name in his bed before. "You should shower. Go home. Take a day or two, if you need it. But I know for a fact you wait this shit out, justify coming to me with time and space from whatever guy has you strung out. I know it's been a minute already, and I know you've never sounded so unsure about cutting someone loose."

Tommy's gaze flicks to him.

"Whatever it is that's got you so scared of this guy, figure it the fuck out. Because it sounds to me like you fell fast and hard and hit a fucking wall before you ever thought to tap the brakes. That's not fair to you or him. Call him. Text him. Show up at his door with a bouquet or an industrial size bottle of lube and figure your shit out. Together."

Tommy stares at him for a long, long time in silence.

"Them's the brakes, huh?"

Harry hates that he knows exactly what Tommy means. Still, he clarifies. "This is your forever guy." Six years of watching him flail and learn and grow and hurt and love and fuck. He knows a thing or two about Tommy and his flights of romance. Knows this lonely man has never sounded quite so lonely before. "You don't need me, anymore."

He's quiet as his eyes drift back up to the stain. "I'm not his forever guy." Harry can't actually refute that, considering he's never met the guy. But he knows Tommy. Knows exactly how captivating he can be. Knows Tommy's a sucker for that starry-eyed look that so often has meant not love, as Tommy reads it, but idolization. "What if I'm not his forever guy?"

Harry digs toes into the spot in the duvet where Tommy's knees should be. He shifts Tommy about half a millimeter. "He has a nickname you don't call him except when you're punishing yourself. He dated Abby and that shared history didn't scare him off. You'd never let yourself fall for a guy that wasn't throwing clear signs that it was serious. I'd put my odds on him doing something weird and wholesome every time he thinks about you until his entire two balcony loft is filled with trinkets or treats and he still can't get you off his mind."

Harry's never seen Tommy's face do that before. Not in the throes of a honeymoon phase and not in the worst of a bad breakup. It's some awful mixture between unbridled hope and abject despair.

Harry thinks it's probably fair to hate him a little, for that face. He's earned the right.

"If he kicks you to the curb, I'll take you to one of those expensive wine tastings you pretend to hate, and I'll let you drink all my samples too." It's not an idle promise. Tommy may pretend to hate it but Harry fucking loves wine tastings. "If he doesn't..." Harry shoots him a fond look, "...knowing your type I'm not invited to the wedding anyway, so I guess then I'd been seeing you around."

Something shadows his gaze for a moment, but he's quick to hide it, to smack Harry on the chest like they've just had a good game, to shift out of bed and into his briefs before Harry can blink. He doesn't love Tommy. Not the way he'd have liked to, years and years ago. Still, when Tommy shoots him the dorkiest finger guns known to man and scoops up the rest of his clothes to take to the bathroom with him, Harry still wonders what it's like to have him enough to love him fully.

---

The name catches him off guard every time he hears it. 'Evan' isn't hard to filter - Evan had been a popular enough name to immediately write it off but Buck wasn't white noise of a name

Buck was a character in a movie, an old grizzled war vet, a dog. The name Buck wasn't popular enough not to hear it every time it was so much as whispered in his direction.

The coffee shop isn't crowded, but it's not dead either. When the girl at the counter calls out an order for Buck, sliding three cups down the counter, Harry can't help but look up.

A tall broad shouldered hulk of a man smiles a dimpled smile at the barista, and Harry watches him palm two cups and grab the third one in one practiced move. He's cute, Harry thinks. Maybe his grandpa ordered, Harry thinks, a little harder, and then caves, following his path through the three-tops littering the lobby.

Harry catches sight of him without being noticed. He's grinning, one of those rare earnest ones that make his ears rise and his face crinkle like a Shar Pei, hand spread out over something lying open on the table. The little girl on the seat to his right is a surprise, but Harry hasn't spoken to Tommy in two years. Maybe he's had enough time to get his mind around the idea that he's nothing like his father. The girl responds to something Tommy says by palming at as much of his face as she can reach and turning to the man now approaching their table.

"Uncle Buck!" he catches, another firm tug at the part of his brain that's been stuck on this for too long. The man barely gets all three drinks on the table before the girl is launching herself up into his arms, and it's too late for Harry to turn away without notice. Tommy's gaze shifts across the room and lands right on him.

He looks like he might wave Harry over, and Harry would rather die than know whether Tommy would introduce him as an old friend, or by name like Buck should know it. He tips a smile Tommy's way. Raises a brow at the man - Buck - and gets lips being sucked behind teeth in response, and then a slow, subtle head tilt.

Good. Good for him. Harry's never wanted anything for Tommy but to see him incandescently happy.

Witnessing it from a distance is better.

Buck twirls his - niece? - flops her back down on the bench seat next to Tommy and bends to say something that includes a pinky promise. He's got a wine-dark stain just above his brow, and Harry can't quite hide the tip of his smile.

Harry's name rings in his ears as he picks up his drink, and he's halfway to the door, feeling proud of himself for not turning back, when he hears the chorus of three laughs erupting from the corner where he'd taken his last good look.

He'd seen the ring on insta, a week and a half ago. Just an uncaptioned picture of two bands balanced one over the other on a rock, a killer sunset sky blurry behind them. No tags. 102 likes and counting.

Harry pushes through the doors and only glances through the window to watch Tommy tip his head back in laughter for a second, before he's cleared the coffee shop and rounded the corner back to his office.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #tommy + omc #outsider pov

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krypticcafe · 1 year ago

Note

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

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scarletwinterxx · 2 months ago

Text

unconditional - jeong jaehyun imagine

hellloooo~ before i go back to being an absolute mess, here's a scenario for our valentine boy. i miss him already😭🥺😭🥺

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Three rings.

It took three rings before you answered the call. It was late so he thought you might be asleep, but he knows you always sleep late so he gave it a try. Just before he was about to hang up he hears your voice from the other line

"What?"

"Not even a hello?" Jaehyun chuckles

"What do you need, Jae? Aren't you rehearsing right now?"

A few hours ago he sent you a text while he was at the practice room, complaining about how he wanted to go home already but he still had a lot of songs to rehearse. It's now past midnight and he just got back home and the first thing he did was call you.

"Nah, I'm back home. I need to wake up early though. I'm going to dye my hair for the fanmeet"

"What is it with you guys and dyeing your hair before enlistment?" you teasingly ask him, referring to your older brother who did the same before shaving his head full of damaged hair just a few months ago. "Are you gonna go bald too?" you ask with a laugh

"Yea no, Jungwoo's not going anywhere near me with a pair of scissors"

"Aw, I was looking forward to that"

"May I remind you how you cried when you saw Taeyong hyung after shaving his head" he reminds you, recalling that emotional night.

The two of you met through your brother, his leader, Taeyong. Through the years you and Jaehyun grew close since you're the same age and used to attend the same school. What he likes most about being friends with you is how you treat him like a normal guy, not some famous boy group member.

To you, he's just Jaehyun.

As for Taeyong, he knows there's something more but he doesn't say anything about it to you. He'll let you figure it out on your own. He already had that talk with his member and even though Jaehyun may be his bestfriend, when it comes to you it's a different conversation. Though Taeyong already knows that Jaehyun's priority is very similar to his, your safety and privacy. Your brother knows you're in safe hands.

"So why did you call again?" you ask your bestfriend

"What's your favorite hair color that I did?"

"Huh? You called just to ask me that? I dunno, blonde? Like your hair during Perfume promotion? Ooooh but pink suites you too"

He listens to you list down all the colors, waiting for you to finally pick one. He lays down on his bed, staring at the canopy above while your voice fills his ears

"Okay I think it's blonde" you say with finality like it's such a serious discussion

"Are you looking at pictures of me?" he asks, a teasing hint in his voice

"I need reference, just to be sure. Why are you asking me anyways?"

"Nothing, just curious. Anyways, I got the tickets for you for the fanmeet"

"Oh shit, didn't I tell you I can't come? I have this thing I can't miss"

Jaehyun immediately sits up on his bed, mood already deflating. It's the last time he'll perform before his enlistment and he was hoping you'd be there. You're always there to watch the group and even the individual members' concerts, in a way you try to show your support while your brother is away.

"Really? You can't reschedule the other thing or maybe come the second day?" he asks, voice still hopeful

"I'll ask my supervisor, no promises though. Sorry, this was scheduled since last month"

"No, don't worry about it. Guess I'll just see you after? I still have your gift from Paris"

"You didn't need to get me anything, I told you! Anyways I need to go, talk to you tomorrow" you hang up the call before he can say anything else.

There's really no other agenda, you weren't about to miss your bestfriend's first solo event. You were going to be there no matter what, rain or shine. You just wanted to surprise him.

The two of you still messaged back and forth before the event, until the morning of the fanmeet Jaehyun was hoping for a change of plan from you but it's been hours since he last heard from you.

"The fans are coming in now, you're going on in less than an hour" his manager tells him "Some of the members are here too, just waiting for the others"

"Okay"

He scrolls through his phone, singing quietly to himself while he waits. People are going in and out of the dressing room so he didn't pay much attention to whose coming in through the doors, little did he know one of the staff member was guiding out just outside the door while you hold a big bouquet of flowers.

"Did I overdo it?" you ask his manager, earning a chuckle from them "I think he'll like it" he tells you

"He better, I spent a good amount of money for these. He's in there right?"

"Mhm, he's alone now. You can go in, maybe he'll stop moping around"

You thank staff for helping you before stepping in his dressing room, he's sitting on the couch with his back to you so he still hasn't seen you.

"Heard you were moping around, maybe this will cheer you up"

Jaehyun turns his head so fast, almost gave himself a whiplash. Checking to see if he heard that right, if it was really you. And there you are, standing a few feet from him with the biggest bouquet of flowers

"Thought you were busy today?" was all he can say.

He really thought you weren't coming today, he was feeling really down despite looking forward to this event for weeks. He just really wanted to share this day with you and now you're here.

"I was lying, forgive me but I wanted to surprise you so you can't be mad at me" you tell him, walking over to where he was. He stands up from his seat to meet you in the middle, you give him the flowers smiling so big your cheeks hurt.

"You really think I was going to miss this? How little did you think of me?" you tease him, there you notice his blonde hair recalling your conversation from a few nights ago "You look cute, I like your hair"

He still hasn't said anything, just looking at you like he can't believe you're here

"Yah, what's with you? You okay?" you ask

Instead of saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug. One arm around your waist while the other holds the flowers you got for him.

"Thank you for coming" he whispers against your hair. You smile at his words, you throw your arms around his shoulder to give him a proper hug "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Are you going to sing my song though?" you jokingly ask as you break from the hug

He looks down at you, now mirroring the smile you had. His previously somber mood making a complete turn for the better now that you're here.

"Which one?" he teases back, even though you think he's only joking there's truth to his words. His songs is his way of confessing his feelings to you. It's not as easy to say the words outright but when he sings them, it's much much easier.

He remembers how much you liked it when he made a cover of 'Like Me Better', that was one of those rare moments he's seen you fangirl over him. When he found out one of your favorite movie moments ever was the one from 10 Things I Hate About You, the scene where Heath sings for Julia, he decided to do a cover of that two. The smile you had on when you first heard his voice singing it is forever etched in his mind.

From then on, you've been referring to it as 'your song'. He performed it too during his birthday event, you were there in the crowd of course wearing a disguise but he didn't forget to throw a smile your way as if to let you know that that song is indeed for you and only you.

"Wait and find out, I'm not gonna spoil it to you"

"So you are singing it" you grin at him, already getting excited

"I'm singing my songs too, aren't you excited for that"

"I am, shut up" you give him a punch on the shoulder, "Oh and Taeyong oppa said goodluck" you add, walking to where he was sitting before. He puts the flower down, following you on the couch while the two of you wait for his manager to call him on stage

"Are you gonna cry tonight? Promise I won't make fun of you... a lot"

He knows you would, like he knows how you would probably take a video if ever do cry. "If I cry, then you'll cry too"

"I'm a sympathetic crier, sue me"

"Your brother will kill me if I make you cry so you better not, oh now that you're here" he takes a paper bag from his stuff, passing it over to you

"Ooo goodies from Paris, is it a keychain? fridge magnet? Wait what the hell, Jaehyun?! This is expensive" you say as you open the cartier box

"Early Christmas gift" he shrugs

"You said that was the Prada bag you got me last time you were in L.A"

"That was your birthday present"

"I can't accept this, Jae. This is too much" you tell him but he's already taking the love bracelet out of the box along with the little screwdriver to put it on for you

"Add it to your stack, it will look good" he mumbles, his focus on putting the bracelet on your wrist

"You gave these too! You're spoiling me too much" you laugh, watching him struggle a bit

"Good, so now other guys won't impress you that easy while I'm gone" he mumbles, finally the bracelet locks on your wrist. He looks up at you, sending you smile then lets go of your hand. You shoot him a look, as if asking him what he meant but he choose to ignore you.

"Hey, we need you out there now. Let's go" his managers peeks his head inside, calling for Jaehyun.

He stands up, you follow behind him but before he steps out the door you hold him by the arm "We're going to talk" you tell him

"About what?" he asks, blinking back at you

"You're insufferable, you know that"

He chuckles at your statement, taking the hand that was holding his arm to hold it in his instead. Intertwining his fingers with yours. You look down at your linked hands, it should feel weird. He's your bestfriend for goodness sake. But instead it feels right, like your hands were molded to fit together.

Hoping he doesn't notice your cheeks getting warm, you keep a straight face while looking up at him.

"Told you, my songs are about you. Didn't you hear the part I said I've been crushing on you but I've just been keeping it to myself"

"How was I suppose to know that was about me?!"

"Who else would it be about?" he asks back, still smiling at you. His dimples on full display

"My answer is always you" he teases. Another song lyric, you know that one too. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you give his side a pinch using your free hand

"Jaehyun we need you backstage!" the two of hear his manager shout from outside

"You have so much explaining to do, Jeong Jaehyun" you tell him, letting go of his hand to push him out the door but he don't budge.

He smiles at you again before swooping down to give you a kiss on the corner of your mouth, catching you totally of guard.

"I'll tell you everything there is to know, later. For now I got a show to do. Gonna make sure my girl won't take her eyes off me" he winks then he opens the door, leaving of behind in utter shock.

You walk out the dressing room, watching Jaehyun's back as he makes his way to the stage. Before he turns to the corners, he looks back at where you're standing sending you a quick smile and a salute. You smile back at him, waving your hand to send him off.

#nct #nct fic #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct x y/n

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wttcsms · 2 years ago

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diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?”

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features.

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year.

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age.

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment.

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence.

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with!

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes.

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore.

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”.

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan.

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.”

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either.

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!”

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession.

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud?

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now.

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you,

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.”

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty.

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence.

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.”

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience.

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is.

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry.

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze.

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him.

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back.

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes.

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway.

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you.

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway.

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens.

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.”

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.”

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even.

“Y-you’re a virgin?”

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole.

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.”

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity.

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver.

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now.

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.”

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again.

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak.

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain.

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession.

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down.

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around.

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only.

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed…

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #one shot #lemon

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eggfriedricedwasian · 24 days ago

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Give me psychopathic killer Tim Drake in which Gotham and several other super hero infested cities all gain a new serial killer they have dubbed as "Smiler".

Why? Simple, when the killer leaves the crime scene, the body is totally and entirely mutilated, skin grafts made and missing, organs and bones missing here and there and it's no specifically chosen ones either, the rest of the organs and bones are strung up in the place of murder. But the reason for the name Smiler is because the head is decapitated and left in perfect condition other than a smile cut along the face in a Joker-Jeff-The-Killer-esque way that leaves even the unscared scared.

Why would Tim do this? For fun. He's very morally gray, kids are where he cuts the line, but everyone else for no reason at all? It's fun to him. So maybe he was hit a few times in the head too many with electrocution(This can be from regular crime fighting or Joker Jr or League of Assassins you decide), he finds it fun to do all of this methodically and leave people in shambles trying to figure it out.

But how is he able to do this? He, without anyone's knowledge and for fun, got a Ph.D and Doctorates in med school to be a licensed surgeon and what not. He still regularly performs surgery, he works as a surgeon 4 days of the week and no one knows because they think he's working at WE but really it's basically all Tam, he's just there to be the face and to provide good info. He's already reformed the board so he can do whatever.

Would the hero community ever find out? Up to you. Here's how I would picture them finding out;

Some girl gets cornered the bats, then starts rambling for whatever reason about them when they're trying to help her.

"If I want understanding I'd go to Batman.

If I want empathy I'd go to Nightwing.

If I wanted a presence I'd go to Robin.

If I wanted emotional stability I'd go to Red Hood.

If I wanted support I'd go to Spoiler.

If I wanted the truth I'd go to Black Bat.

But if I wanted someone murdered, I'd go to Red Robin."

And the pieces don't make sense, because who is this woman and how does she know or why does she think Red Robin, Batman's literal in-every sense-but-blood mini-me, is a murderer? He follows Batman's moral code like a god.

But then they start looking further into his life. As CEO, they find he's not working there often, only 3 days a week, specifically for meetings. They dig deeper and find that somewhere between now and his quest for Bruce he lost his spleen and got a Ph.D and Doctorates. When confronted he said it'd be good especially for on the field when there's no one to step in and help. Experience and trust in the field is a good thing, like Harley Quinn.

Knowing that, Bruce being paranoid starts learning a bit more about surgery, and then something brings up the Smiler killings. Bruce looks at the things about the Smiler's way of killing and compares it to a surgeon. The way of opening the body, removing skin, removing the organs, no inexperienced person without a surgical background would be able to do this. They would have destroyed the organs. Or at least damaged them in someway.

Bruce starts watching Tim closely, because the time he got the license in surgery is around the time the Smiler started killing.

It was inly confirmed when one slip up gave him away. A threat.

"I will surgically remove your organs and make it seem like an organ donation."

He said that to a Justice League member after getting into a dispute with them.

That started the questions. The first one was a trick question, it was supposed to only scare Tim into confessing. But Tim wasn't scared, he knew they didn't know and he knew this was a scare tactic, he knows interrogation. Yet he still confessed. He was happy to. Smiling like a psycho and everything.

"It started as a joke. Joke? Well, practice. A small time thug, a human sex trafficker. Red Hood was gonna kill him anyways, so I thought, "why not do it myself?", you know? I had the license, the experience, I needed more of the latter though. So I just started opening him up. Removing things little by little. It was fun. The decapitation and the smile was my little thing though. The missing organs, donated to science and to people who need them. So can you really say I'm doing something completely wrong?"

The detail Tim went into caused a few to lose their stomachs.

Tim, the psycho, was enjoying this.

(This could definitely play a part in Tim becomes Damian's Joker to his Batman. I saw a post about it somewhere.)

#tim drake #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake headcanon #batfam headcanons #jason todd #tim drake murder #joker junior tim drake #joker jr #dc joker #joker junior #psycho tim drake #sociopath tim drake #tim drake is a murderer

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sansaorgana · 6 months ago

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Hello, I have a request for Benny Cross:

Benny had a bad habit of telling reader that he would just leave so that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore, and at some point she distances herself because she thinks he’s really going to leave some day and it will hurt less if she starts getting used to his absence. Benny’s not having it though and he realizes that it stresses her every time he says that so he reassures her. Please & thank you 🙏🏼💗

hello! thank you for your request 💐 honestly, he's manipulating emotionally so much when he's like that lol 🙄 but we love him anyway, right? 😉

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

“I should just go,” Benny would always say when you mentioned how worried you were about him riding the motorbike and getting involved in all kinds of trouble – whether with the gang or on his own. “You won’t have to take care of me, won’t have to worry about me then.”

When he said that for the first time, you were assuring him that it was not what you wanted – holding onto him, caressing his head as you pressed his face between your breasts like a mother would to her son.

But a few times later, you realised that it was an emotional manipulation on his side. It was his way of shutting you up and making you feel guilty for being worried about the things you had every right to be worried about. You loved him – and yes, you knew what he was like when you chose to be his girl and you didn’t want to tame him but… You were worried. Because you loved him and didn’t want to see him in jail or hurt. Was it that difficult to understand?

And now it happened again – he had gotten himself into a fight, half of his face bruised and fresh cuts on his forehead and a cheek. Benny was sitting on the edge of the bed and you were next to him, patching him up. Clearing the wounds carefully with pursed lips, trying not to say anything that would anger him further because he was still pretty riled up.

“What?” He asked eventually after one of your sighs.

“You know what,” you pointed out and went back to taking care of him.

“That guy deserved it, I won and I’m fine. What’s your problem again?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine?” You snorted at him and pointed at the mirror. “Look at your face, Benny. You’re not fucking fine,” you gritted your teeth. “Or perhaps you’ve taken a few too many hits and you’ve got brain damage now, talking nonsense. Wouldn’t surprise me,” you added angrily.

“Alright, enough,” he mumbled and shoved your hands away as he reached to the nightstand for a cigarette. He lit it and gave you the look you had known already very well. “I should just leave,” he told you. “You won’t have to worry and get angry anymore when I go.”

Perhaps you should have been used to this now but perhaps it was that one time too many. You had no answer to this, no willpower to argue. Maybe he was thinking of leaving you and that was why he kept repeating it all the time? Maybe your constant worrying was too much for him? Maybe he wanted a woman who would only care about getting fucked and taking rides and that was it? Maybe he didn’t treat this relationship as seriously as you did?

Fighting all these thoughts in your head, you just took the bowl of cold water filled with bloody cotton pads and you left him alone in the bedroom. You went downstairs to clean the mess up and to curl up on the couch in front of TV.

After half an hour you heard his light snoring coming out of the bedroom and you decided to go to sleep, too. You felt extremely numb inside, though. It was difficult to fall asleep – laying next to a man you loved so much but everything seemed to be so complicated. Sometimes love was not enough. And love itself was never complicated – but people sometimes were. Benny certainly was. And maybe it would be for the best to let him go, to let him leave, as he was always saying.

He was a man of the road, after all. He valued freedom more than anything else. Of course he would leave one day. What even had you been thinking? That he’d stay forever with you? That he wouldn’t drive away one day?

As you imagined it happening, your heart squeezed inside your chest. You realised how much it would hurt when he leaves. You had to start preparing yourself already, you decided. So it would hurt less. So it wouldn’t kill you.

You had to distance yourself from him.

At first Benny didn’t notice your odd behaviour. Well, he did. But at first it wasn’t so odd. It was nothing new that you were moody and offended at something so he just let it pass as usual. But on the third day of a house not being filled with your talking and your laughter, on the third day of you giving him a cold shoulder in bed… He started to contemplate what could be the reason behind it.

And during the picnic, you were spending time with everybody around except for him. The message was pretty clear. Even some of his friends pointed it out. Something was not right about the way you behaved around him.

You were drinking with Betty by the fire and giggling with her about something. Benny was watching you from afar, smoking a cigarette and gritting his teeth. He missed that laughter, that giggle, your smile, the sparkle in your eye. He missed your soft hands caressing him whenever you could – playing with the rings on his fingers, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. He missed your lips kissing the top of his nose and his eyelids after telling him goodnight and he missed having you underneath him and covering your whole face with tiny little kisses as he was tickling your sides.

He threw the cigarette away to step on it and fixed his leather jacket before approaching you nonchalantly as he usually would. You didn’t even look up at him but Betty did as she stopped talking to you as if you had been discussing some secrets together.

“Benny?” She asked.

“I gotta speak to my girl,” Benny explained and the intensity of his gaze made you finally look up.

You gave Betty an annoyed look but you nodded your head and Johnny’s wife left you alone with your boyfriend. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before taking a sip of your beverage.

“What is it?” You asked with a sigh.

“Should be me askin’, don’t you think?” Benny stood next to you with his hands inside of his pockets, trying to look at your face but it was difficult since you were determined to avoid his gaze. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” you chuckled at his question sarcastically.

“You’re actin’ up ever since…”

“Ever since you told me you were gonna leave,” you snapped suddenly as you finally laid your eyes on him. “So yeah, what are you even still doing here?” You added and tried to walk away but Benny grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest despite your protests.

“Is that what it’s all about, huh?” He raised his eyebrows but his dismissive tone was not helping at all.

“You’re seriously surprised, Benny? How many more times can I handle listening to that, hm? What do you think? That you talking shit like that won’t mess with my head? That it won’t have any effect on me, huh? Please!” You managed to free your wrist from his grasp. He kept staring at you with widened eyes as he was blinking slowly and analysing your every word and expression. “You wanna leave? You wanna go? Sure, go on. But I’m trying to distance myself before it happens, so…” Your voice trembled as a lump formed in your throat. “So it won’t kill me when you do,” you finished in a broken whisper while tears pricked your eyes.

After a short moment, you walked away quickly. You didn’t want to start crying and make a scene in front of everybody. And you didn’t want to start crying in front of Benny either – to let him know how much you cared about him when he was constantly talking about leaving? That felt humiliating.

So, you went inside the house and to the kitchen where you put the bottle down next to dozens of other empty bottles. Grabbing the edges of the sink, you tried to catch your breath back and calm yourself down.

When you heard the footsteps behind you, you straightened your back and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You turned around and saw Benny, leaning on the wall on the other side of the kitchen.

“I’m not plannin’ to leave any time soon,” Benny muttered nervously.

“Any time soon?” You shook your head. “Wow.”

“I mean…” He sighed and approached you. “You know, I might hit the road one day, leave forever. You know I hate being tied to one place,” he explained. “But I’m gonna take my doll with me. What gave you an idea I wouldn’t?” He lifted your chin up.

“What gave me an idea, Benny?! You did!” You pointed out with widened eyes.

“Aw, kitty, I’m just sayin’ stuff like that so you stop lecturing me, haven’t you realised that already?” Benny leaned in to cup your face and rub your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Shush, don’t you cry…”

“Benny, I…” You caught your breath and raised your hands to cup his face, too. You missed the feeling of his beard under your soft fingertips. You scratched him the way he liked it and cracked a smile at him. The very first in a few days. “Benny, I’m worried. And I will always be. Always, you hear me? Because I love you. You can’t expect me not to… You just can’t. And doing that by telling me you’re gonna leave is the worst way of doing so. It’s killing me each time. It’s awful,” you confessed and looked down. “You can’t make me feel guilty for the fact I worry about you. I am the only one who does.”

It was true. His friends from the gang adored him but they didn’t care much about his health or troubles with the law. In fact – they encouraged Benny’s getting into fights or getting arrested. They liked him for the fact that he was wild and difficult to tame. They cheered on when he had a new bruise or a new case in the courthouse. You didn’t.

“I’ve never had anyone worrying about me, dollie,” Benny confessed softly. “I’m not used to that.”

“I’m not doing that to annoy you. I worry because I love you,” you looked up again and bit on your lower lip.

“I know. Because I worry about you, too,” he rubbed his nose with yours after leaning in even closer. “I worry about you all the time. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“So why can’t you understand that what I feel towards you is just the same? That I’m not doing it to annoy you?” You asked.

“It’s just hard to believe, I guess,” Benny shrugged his arms. “That a doll like you can love a guy like me so much.”

“Oh, Benny…” Now you didn’t know what to say as your heart broke in half.

“And when you’re angry at me when I get hurt… I feel like a burden,” he added.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “I just feel so helpless sometimes and I get angry… Because I don’t know how to make you finally understand that I want you to stop getting in trouble,” you sniffled your tears back and Benny wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you close into a tight embrace.

“Trouble is my middle name, kitty. But I’m already tryin’ my best not to mess around too much since I have you,” he promised and kissed the top of his head. “You know, before I met you, I used to think I would die young. But I don’t want that to happen anymore, yeah. I wanna grow old with you, baby.”

His words were like honey being poured onto your heart. You squeezed him tight and pressed your ear to his chest where his heart was.

“I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Don’t give me silent treatment anymore, I can’t handle that.”

“I won’t,” you giggled, with your face still pressed to his chest.

“Good.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #*benny #lilysfiction

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alexander-23 · 22 days ago

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Come Home

A/N: This made me so happy to write because I’ve missed writing and I know what happens next since it’s my story lol. Anyways, sorry for any grammar issues, I’ve got the sprinkle of dyslexia and such and messes with me lol. Part two is coming soon!

TW: angst, mention of torture, mention of injuries, fluff, fear, comment if I missed anything please

Masterlist

Not many know, but Ambessa and I have been an item for quite some time now. At first, the secrecy was due to the fling, then emotions taking hold and she couldn't risk the damage to her reputation, now it's to keep me from being a pawn in war against her. I understand, if I was in her position and they took her from me, I'd be weak, my emotions coming into play, controlling my actions. I would do anything, even lose a war and all power if it meant she was alive and safe. I understand Ambessa’s need for secrecy. We simply want to protect each other this way, and it works for us.

Ambessa is extra protective of me because I’m not like her, not a fighter. I know enough to defend myself until I can get help, it was a requirement from Ambessa, to ease her nerves. She is the all mighty warlord of Noxus, feared by many, and she has many enemies. Ambessa was the one to train me until she was satisfied with my skill level. If I was a soldier of hers, she would have pushed me harder, but when I reasoned with her, she understood my role in war was far from enemy lines, a safer place where fighting was barely even needed, at least for her army. I played my part in wars though, typically her strategist, and a good one at that. Ambessa appreciates my input when planning, I always think of things she doesn't, my mind thinking of things that would keep her safe when she is fighting for her life and victory. War strategy was never something I saw myself doing, but it became a talent when I realized I enjoyed the research; more so when it meant I was contributing to the protection of my love.

The day of the war was stressful to say the least. Ambessa always gives me five minutes to share my feelings, my concerns and clingy behavior, talking through my anxiety about her going into battle, scared she won't come back. She knows my concern isn't about my belief in her abilities, but rather the fears that scream in my head out of love for her. She displays a gentleness no one else has ever seen, something for my eyes only. Cupping of my cheek, arm around my torso that pulls me close, and her soothing voice reassuring me of her return, but validating my feelings. She will pepper my face with kisses before I help her with her armor, and her with mine. This was a month ago and the last time I saw her.

While she was fighting, a team made a strike on us in our camp, taking me as well as a few others. I don’t remember much of the ambush, just some yelling, a hit to the back of my head, then everything went black. Now its a month later and I'm stumbling through the battlefield. I can feel the dirt under my bare feet, a cool breeze causing a shiver to run through my body. They had stripped me of my armor and kept it, the armor Ambessa had made specially for me, an extra layer of protection from weapons and any environment our battles brought us to. I’m thinner from the lack of food I was given to scrounge on when they felt it was time to feed me, which wasn’t often enough. My body is covered in cuts and bruises from the interrogations as they called them trying to get information out of me, but I gave them nothing. I’m frigid, weak, and exhausted, but I push on, determined to get back to the love of my life, my safe haven.

When I look up, I can see our base camp far in the distance, it’s so close, but so far still. Smoke rises from what must be fires in the camp, and torches at the entrance to the camp. I want to scream out for help, anything to get their attention, but I can’t. My voice is so weak from my screams of pain when I was being tortured, my voice doesn’t even reach five feet in front of me, but I keep trying.

“Hel-“ *I immediately cough, but try again, “Help”.

I can just barely see movement up by the entrance, hoping they will see me and help me. I keep pushing forward, scared as my vision starts to blur.

“H-help”

The edges of my vision start to fade and I trip over my feet and fall to the ground, too weak to move again.

“H-h-help”

I look towards the camp while I lie on the ground, my eyes are starting to water. My eyes shut for a long period of time, but when I finally open them again, I see a shadowed figure running towards me. Tears stream down my cheeks as they get close, but my vision starts to go black again.

#reader insert #x y/n #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa league of legends #ambessa x you #ambessa medarda/reader #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #fluff #angst #arcane #fanfiction #arcane fanfic

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago

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We bleed together

a/n you want pain!? I'll give you pain. The person who requested this is responsible for the damage.

summary: what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

warnings: car crash, blood, injuries, wounds, death ahh I would say medium emotional damage

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"And then one more", you spun around, making the baby giggle in your hands, "And one more", you twirled around, smiling to yourself as yet another giggle filled the still-empty kitchen. Emma was one giddy baby. For a five-month-old, she was extremely alert, her curiosity driving her to look around as much as she could. If only her body was strong enough, she would be crawling around day and night. Following Sarah around or any of you for that instant. Sarah barely left her side. You were worried at first about her reaction. Sure, you had been there almost from the start, helping Joel take care of her, and she was like your own daughter, but still. You had plenty of conversations about her biological mother. You understood her desire to know. To ask questions. To understand.

"She didn't want me, right? I was the problem", you were halfway through your pregnancy when this conversation surfaced again. Putting down the baby sweater that you were just folding, you motioned for Sarah to come in. She had become more avoidant once you started showing. The reality started to kick in, and it pained her that the baby was going to have a real and normal family.

"You were never the problem, my beam of light", you cupped her face lovingly, whipping away some of the tears that had started rolling down Sarah's cheeks. "But… she didn't love me like you love your baby", "Oh, Sarah", you pulled her closer to your chest, "I've loved you from the moment I saw you kicking around in that makeshift crib your dad had going on". Running your hand through Sarah's curls, you made her turn to you. "You've been my special girl since then. I love you and the baby the same. There are no differences to me between you two. Sure, you and I don't share DNA, but, like, who cares about that?", she shrugged her shoulders. Biting her lip as she tried to stop the tears. "You promise you won't leave?", Sarah crocked out, big brown eyes searching yours. It broke your heart so much, but you understood her. Her fear of losing a mother figure. Her dad needing to go through this alone again. You took both of her hands in yours, squeezing them, "I would never dream of it; you are my world".

Joel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, especially once the baby caught sight of her father in the archway, kicking her little legs happily. The sudden burst of excitement made you turn your head to the side, "Ah, so dad is the one you get all happy for, huh", You nuzzled your face into Emma's neck, leaving endless amounts of kisses there and making her squeal happily. "She's a daddy's girl, aren't you?", Joel walked closer to you, hand reaching instantly for the smallest Miller. Emma's babbles filled the kitchen as she told her dad all the stories she could. "Honestly, rude. When both of our kids are like that", "Maybe I'm just more awesome", you let out a fake gasp, your hand coming up your chest. Joel smirked before giggling to himself. "No, sir, soon you'll be going to work without birthday sandwiches", you warned him, and Joel instantly lifted his free hand in the air defensively.

It felt surreal this morning for some reason. Joel had laid in bed awake for some time just thinking. Thinking about Sarah's mother. Thinking about you. About how his life had shifted once you stepped in. How much he valued the love you gave Sarah. How much he valued you going through a tough pregnancy to bring another baby girl into this world. Joel wondered if you knew. Knew how much he loved you. It wasn't just love. It was his whole existence. You were his rock, as he was yours. But he knew, Joel was convinced, that it was all thanks to you that he found purpose in life again.

"We can't have mommy mad", Joel mumbled to Emma, ticking her stomach. He moved closer to you while you were cutting up the vegetables. Leaning in to press a kiss on your shoulder, then another. Before a whole line of kisses was drawn from your shoulder up to your temple. You giggled, loving the slight tickle of Joel's beard against your skin. "I love you so much", Joel muttered, bringing you closer to his chest as his hand sneaked around your waist. You leaned back into him smiling, "Not as much as I love you, birthday boy", you cupped his cheeks, moving into Joel's embrace so you could place your lips on his. "The best mama ever", he muttered in between kisses, "And best wife to be", those words made your heart flutter a little. God, you loved this man, and you couldn't wait to be a Miller soon. You deepened the kiss just a little.

"Seriously? In front of a baby?", Sarah's voice made you two tear apart quickly. "You're officially out of the age to say ew when your parents kiss", Joel chirped, turning to his older daughter, who was rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but Em isn't, so don't be disgusting, right Em?", Sarah reached for her sister, whom Joel had carefully placed in her little high chair. Her little fist tightened and wrapped around Sarah's finger. You place the plates with food on the table.

"Tommy?", you ask, but Joel shrugged his shoulders. "Probably left early," strange, you thought to yourself as you slipped into the chair next to everyone. "So, how old are you again?", Sarah asked, mouth full of food. "Thirty-six", the girl shook her head, making you giggle. "Hate to break it to you, dad, but dippers are in the near future", she teased, but Joel only hummed, "Who said I ain't wearing one now?". Sarah let out a laugh, which Emma mimicked, making you smile. "Well, at least now I know why Em's diapers are disappearing", you said ž, making them both let out a laugh.

You wished you could freeze moments like this. Where you all were laughing. Where nothing bothered you all. "Don't forget to get the cake on your way back", you reminded Joel, who instantly hummed, "I will don't worry", he muttered, and Sarah sent him a warning look that he returned by leaning across the table to cup her cheeks and placing kisses all over her face. She squirmed in her dad's hands until she couldn't contain the laughter anymore.

Joel came back to a dark house. He wasn't expecting anything else, considering that he was three hours late coming back. He knew you would forget him for skipping his birthday dinner. It was Sarah, whom he knew must be upset. And letting her down was his biggest fear in life. Joel tried to move past the hallway as quietly as possible, stopping only when he noticed a light coming from the living room. Sarah was fast asleep with her head laying on your lap, your eyes were tired as you held Emma close to your chest. The light sounds of her suckling and the television playing were the only noise in the room. Joel couldn't help but smile slightly. He will never be able to get tired of a sight like this.

"Am I in deep shit?", you blinked a couple of times, shaking your head, "You can't even imagine Miller". Joel sat down next to you, lips instantly moving to kiss the side of your head, hand reaching to support Emma, who was happily eating, her tiny hand holding onto the pendant necklace that Joel had gotten you. It had four gold-plated letters. All the first letters of your little family's names.

"Don't overthink it. She'll understand eventually. Sarah wants your presence more than that cake anyway,", you reassured him, already feeling him slip into his mind. You knew Joel best. You knew how much he cared. The family was always first, and his working hours were so hectic just because he wanted to give you all the best. "I know. I will… I'll squeeze in a free day, and we can all just have a day to ourselves", Joel muttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Have I told you lately that you are the love of my life?", he asked all of a sudden, making you look back up at him. "Well, I would freaking hope to be", you teased him, moving to nuzzle closer to him once more. Joel let out a light chuckle, "But you have; you always remind me of that. Because you are the best fiancé and father ever", you muttered sleepily. Joel's warmth dangerously lulled you into a slumber.

The sound of what appeared to be a military helicopter flying over the house woke you up. You frowned, reaching over for Joel only to find his side of the bed empty. You quickly sat up, looking at the bassinet that stood by the side of your bed. Breathing out a sigh of relief when you saw Emma fast asleep there. Lights from outside were illuminating the room. It seemed like the search troops were out. What the heck was happening? The sight of a paper note caught your attention next. You picked it up quickly. It was Joel's handwriting on it: "Needed to go bail Tommy out. I'll be back as soon as I can. Love you, J.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you grab a book off your bedside table. Something was wrong, and you could just feel it. You could feel it deep in your gut. "Mom, dad", Sarah's voice filled your ears, right before another helicopter flew by. "Cone here, darling", Sarah threw the door open, rushing to you as she jumped onto the bed. "What's going on?", she asked, as your eyes fell over the window. "I don't know,", you muttered, "But daddy will be home soon, and we'll figure it out, okay?", You cupped her cheek tenderly, giving Sarah a light smile. You stood up and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a wrap-around carrier. Quickly draping it over your body, you leaned to pick up the smallest addition to the family, tucking her close to your chest. Now more than thankful that she was a deep sleeper, a gift from Joel.

"Come on, let's see if there's something on TV,", you said, reaching for Sarah's hand. The commotion outside only made the anxiety more and more intense. "Where is dad?", Sarah asked as you walked down the stairs. "He went to get your uncle". It wasn't the first time, so Sarah didn't ask any more questions. She knew it meant that Tommy had once again gotten into trouble. Something that made her dad rather frustrated most of the time.

All the channels were turned off, the only thing on TV was a warning. "Indoors, law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions", your hand was still holding onto Sarah when the sound of something hitting the window made you both jump. The barking filled your ears next, and you let out a shaky breath. Sarah instantly rushed towards the doors. "No, get back here", you called after the girl, but she was already opening the door, sinking to her knees as she petted the dog. "Easy, easy, Mercy. What are you doing out here, boy?", Sarah looked around the street, the chilly nighttime air hitting her cheeks. She moves to step closer to the street, but you were quick to hold onto her arm. "Get back inside," you said, "But what if ms. Adler…", she tried to argue, but your grip on her hand only tightened.

"I said inside", you tugged at her hand right as another person or whatever that was stumbled into the street. It twitched awkwardly before starting to dart in your direction. You moved Sarah behind you. "Go, go, go", you shouted before, pushing her into the house, closing the door behind you. Pressing all of your body weight against the door. Eyes closed as your body started to shake. Where was Joel? Where was he? The baby lets out a whine. Your hand instantly moved to rub up and down her tiny back, hoping to soothe her into sleep.

"Mom", Sarah calls out. You lifted your eyes to see her teary ones, instantly reaching for her, "Come here baby. We're okay", "What was that?". You pressed her to your side, kissing her head a couple of times. You wished you could answer, but you couldn't. "I don't know, baby, I don't know", you nudged her closer to yourself. Banging on the doors got louder, and a part of you was telling you to move to somewhere safer to at least get the girls safe. But you couldn't move. So crippled by anxiety. You just sat there with silent tears falling down your cheeks. Then a shot rang out, making you flinch. And then there was silence.

"Y/N", you let out a cry at Joel's voice that filled your ears from the other side of the door. Sarah was the one to stand up fist, quickly reaching for the handle, giving you just enough time to move slightly as she yanked the doors open. Joel stepped in, his hands reaching for Sarah instantly as he looked her over for any sign of injuries, "You're not hurt, baby girl?", he asked her. Sarah shook her head. "Dad, what's going on?", but Joel said nothing as his eyes fell on you. Crying on the floor, hands wrapped around your baby. He crossed the distance between you in a couple of steps. Kneeling beside you, "Joel…", you cried out, and he instantly brought your body closer to his, weary of the baby between you but making sure you could physically feel that he was there, "I've got you dove, come on, we need to move now".

Joel's arm moved to steady you from behind as he helped you up. Tommy was by Sarah's side, gun in hand, as he walked her towards the car. You barely made it down the front porch stairs as someone ran out of the Adler's house. You all froze in place, and Tommy hiked up the gun. "Get in the truck now", Joel roared, briefly turning to you and Sarah. But there was little time to think as the woman's body twitched and, with an unhuman-like growl, she started crawling towards you.

"What are we doing, Joel?", Tommy's voice rang out, but Joel didn't answer. With the tool in his hand, he swung his arm. He hit the old lady straight on the head, and her body fell to the ground. It was a split-second decision. A decision that had both you and Sarah staring at Joel because you had never… Never seen him this way. Never seen so much anger. Never seen this kind of violence. You didn't even know that Joel was capable of that.

"You killed her", Sarah whispered, pulling you out of your trance. Joel stepped to her, cupping her cheek, "Baby, I'm sorry", wrapping his arms around her, embracing her. "Joel, we need to move", Tommy said in a worried tone, now moving to grab your hands as he walked you toward the car. "You're okay?", he asked you as he opened the door, making sure you didn't hit your head. His hand lingered on his niece's back, her big brown eyes now staring at him. You nodded your head. What else were you supposed to do? "We'll get out of here", Tommy said firmly, rubbing his thumb on Emma's cheek. You turned to Joel and Sarah; he was still holding onto her. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Listen to me, it's not just the Adlers, but we need to be brave; we will get out of this together", Joel said to her before opening the door for her. An explosion rocked the street meters away from you. Both Miller brothers were quick to shield you, baby, and Sarah. Emma's cries echoed through the empty street now. You met Joel's eyes briefly. Eyes that were also scared. Worried eyes. "Let's go, guys, we need to go", Tommy jumped in the driver's seat before starting the car.

Sarah was silently crying beside you. Crying alongside Emma. You tried to soothe both of their fears, but with your anxiety being so high, you knew that you could try to hide it all you wanted - they could still feel it. The frantic driving and Joel's shouting at Tommy didn't help much. You pressed Sarah closer to you, her arm falling over Emma's body. You started to hum one of the lullabies. The lullaby that had followed Sarah through her childhood. The one even she sometimes hummed to her little sister if she took over the nap duties. "And in the darkest of nights, the stars shine bright above us. Sleep tight, little one; let the light calm you", you hummed softly. Rocking both of them in your embrace.

The world was falling apart. Houses were on fire. There was so much screaming. "What if it's everywhere?", Sarah muttered, looking up at you. "We'll find a safe place. Remember what your dad told you? We need to be just a tiny bit braver tonight", you said, meeting Tommy's gaze right as he looked up. A plane flew over the car. "The fuck", the younger Miller cursed while watching the ship sway in the sky. "Keep going", Joel encouraged his brother. His arms slipped toward the back. Joel's fingers were running up and down your calve. His way of grounding himself, of making sure that you knew he was there. That he still had this under control. That he was going to get you all out of here.

The chaos was like nothing you had seen before. The screams. The cries. People were running in front of cars. Hitting the sides as they fell. The streets were full. It all felt like a blur and the worst nightmare all at once. Sarah's grip on your hand was deadly. Your fingers had found Joel's hand as you leaned forward. Tommy started to move out of the street. You felt a tug on your hand. Sarah's eyes were gazing through the back window. "Dad" she whispered, "Dad!", this time the word came out more firm and loud. You only managed to see another airplane flying right at you. Then came the crash. The sound of static. Everything moved at lightning speed. You caved into yourself. Hoping to provide as much shelter for the infant with my body, and then everything went black for a moment.

Joel had never been more scared than the moment he crawled out of the car that was now lying on its roof and found your unconscious body covered in bits of glass and blood. Emma's cries soothed him almost; at least he knew she was alive. Sarah moved as well, and Joel let out a somewhat relieved breath. "Babe", Joel touched your leg, but you didn't move. He inched closer, dragging you out of the car by your shoulders. The moment Joel tugged on your hand, your eyes snapped open with a cry.

"Hey, I've got you", he tried to sound calm, but the sight of the blood trickling down the side of your face made him want to tear the whole world apart. Joel pulled Sarah out of the car as well before turning his attention to you. "Does something hurt?", "My shoulder, I think I…", you hissed when Joel's finger came in contact with your skin. "Give me, Em. Sarah, can you walk, baby?", Joel was loosening the carrier from around your body as he gazed at his firstborn. The girl nodded, and you ripped the side of the carry. Crawling toward Sarah and reaching for her ankle. "I'll wrap it tight, okay; it might feel uncomfortable, but you'll be able to move for now", "Mom, your head", she mumbled, fingers reaching for the blood, but you stopped her quickly. "It's nothing, darling. You focus on staying close to us, okay?"

Tommy came up from the other side, glancing over his shoulder. "The military trucks are here; you need to move; go towards the river; I'll meet you there", Tommy said, Joel rocked Emma in his arms as she screamed her little lungs out. She, too, felt the threat without the warmth of your skin. Tommy shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Joel, before helping you stand. "I'll see y'all there", he ushered you to move. "You stay safe", you said to him, and he only nodded. Regardless of his stumbles in life, Tommy was a good man. A loving brother-in-law. Someone whom you cherished. Cherished so deeply. But you couldn't let your sentiments get the better of you now. You needed to get your babies out of this mess. Get them somewhere safe. So you grabbed Sarah's hand, and so did Joel, and you all ran.

The river bank was practically a hand's reach away. Sarah was limping badly. You knew her leg was going to give up at any moment. You pulled her closer to you so she could lean more of her weight on you. Ignoring the pain that shot through your shoulder. Whispering words of encouragement to her. "Stop right there", a male's voice called out. Joel brought you all to a halt as the light from a gun darted onto your body. "We are not infected. My family got into a car crash", yet you could tell that the soldier didn't care about it whatsoever as he inched closer. "I have four civilians by the river. The female is covered in blood, girl limping", he said coldly into the radio, gun still pointed your way. "Please, we", "Shut up", the male roared, and you instantly pushed Sarah behind you. "Joel…", your hand held onto his forearm, but your eyes didn't leave the person in front of you. Something in your gut twisted. A sense of dread almost pulled you down.

"If something happens", "Y/N, don't…", you yanked at Joel's arm, firmly gaping at him. "You fucking take them and run", you muttered through gritted teeth. "Hey, no one told you to move", the soldier shouted, and you moved to face him again. The sound of your breathing was the only sound you could hear as your hand came up over Joel's hip, and you moved forward. The gunfire pierced the air. The echo was almost unbearable. Freezing. Static. Joel must have dragged you to the side after the first shot rang out, making you all tumble down the hill.

All Joel could hear was Em crying and a couple more shots ringing out. He needed to think quickly. He needed to come up with a plan. "Mommy", Sarah's shaky breath followed by a scream, was what got Joel to look up. And he wished he hadn't. He wished this was a dream. Maybe it was? His worst nightmare? What if he pinched himself? Make it all disappear. Make it all stop. "Joel", Tommy called out, reaching for the crying baby, and the moment the girl was out of his hands, Joel was moving towards you, falling over himself but moving to you.

"Hey, hey, love", he muttered. You had two gunshot wounds on both sides. The blood had already soaked your clothes. Sarah's had her hands pressed against your skin as she shook. "Listen to me, Y/N; I'll get you out; I'll make it", but you moved your hand up, gripping his arm. Lips pressed together as you tried to keep yourself from screaming in pain. You had to. For your girls.

Your eyes fell on Em in Tommy's arms; her bright pink cheeks were visible in the night. Your little angel baby. Your girl that you will never get to see grow up. She might not even remember you. You were going to be a distant memory. Just how Sarah's mom was to her. Sarah looked at the blood seeping through your skin. You reached for her, making her eyes snap at your face.

You pulled the last bits of your strength so you would smile at her, "I love you, sun-shine", you breathed out, and burning pain shot through your body, making you close your eyes. "Mommy, please. I… don't… please", she said, moving to wrap her hands around your neck. You breathed in her flowery scent, feeling your eyes burn with tears. Knowing very well that this was the last time you were going to feel her touch and smell her, "Let… mommy and daddy have a moment", you pleaded. Feeling your body starting to crash already. You didn't want her to see you fade away. No. The blood. Everything from tonight was already too much. She shook her head, but Joel grabbed her hands and moved them away from your blood, saying, "Go to Tommy, baby girl".

Joel, however, moved back to pressing down on your wounds for dear life. Even if he could tell, it was hopeless. He couldn't. He couldn't and was not about to let go. "Joel..", you cried out, and he instantly moved your body closer to his. Pulling you against his chest, "Don't go; don't die; you can't die", he croaked out, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Hold me", you whispered, feeling the metallic taste in your mouth getting stronger, "I'm here, love. I've got you", Joel pulled you even closer to him, savoring the last bits of your warmth. He hoped it would have been him dying here. It should have been because you three would have been fine with Tommy. But with you gone… What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live?

"I lo-ve…", "I love you too; I love you so much", your grip on his arm started to loosen as your body shook. Joel got to meet your eyes one more time. He got to capture the depth and warmth of them that he knew he wanted to remember for the rest of his miserable life. "It's okay, it's okay", more blood poured from your mouth. Your big, worried eyes eased. Joel's rocking stayed the same. As if he were swaying you to sleep. As if you two were back home, back in your bedroom, and you had just had a bad dream. A bad dream that Joel was desperate to chase away. "I will always love you. There will never be anyone to replace you. My heart is yours; I'm bleeding with you, dove", he said through the tears.

Then you took a breath in. A surprisingly smooth breath in. Joel looked down at your face. And with a final exhale, your body let go, and the weight of you in Joel's hands told him loud and clear that you were gone. He looked up at the sky, at the stars that shone brightly despite the complete chaos. His body shook with a sob, a sob that guided your soul away from this world. A sob with which a part of Joel died. You took it as you went, and he was never going to be the same.

Tommy didn't rush Joel. Couldn't bring himself to. Sarah was crying with her head buried in her uncle's shoulder, and Emma's choking sobs followed suit. Joel held you till your body was ice cold. His eyes had dried, and he was staring ahead of himself, but he saw nothing. The same darkness that danced within his heart was now dancing all around him. He took your hand into his, carefully taking off the engagement ring from your finger before doing the same with the necklace. He needed something. He needed something from you that he could carry with him.

With you in his arms, Joel stood up. His legs were shaking, but he stepped forward. Tommy rose as well, "Joel, you can't… ", he tried to stop his brother. He understood that parting with your lifeless body was hard, but Joel couldn't carry you around. "We're going", Joel said dryly, as he moved past them. Sarah managed to brush her fingers over your cold skin as her father walked past. "You can't", Tommy tried again, but Joel turned back around, looking feral. "I said we MOVE,", he barked out, making Sarah shiver, and Em only cried more. "Dad,", the older girl tried, but Joel paid her no mind. He couldn't, not now. Acknowledging her would mean that he would have to face reality. And he couldn't. He couldn't fall apart. Especially not now. A shield of coldness embraces Joel as he continues walking through the dark field, still feeling your blood dripping off his hands. Dead.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal x reader

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dr-spectre · 8 months ago

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I saw this really great thread on twitter by Grungygrim and it definitely highlights my thoughts and frustrations with the story of these games and the Splatoon fandom as a whole. (be forewarned, i get really tilted in this blog post fyi.)

I made a blog post about 2 weeks ago where i said that i was happy that the narrative online that "Callie is an idiot who got kidnapped and then brainwashed/mind controlled against her consent" is going away. (Here's the link: https://www.tumblr.com/dr-spectre/749710338672525312/im-so-happy-that-the-narrative-online-that?source=share)

Unfortunately I'm gonna have to retract a lot of the stuff i said. I'm still seeing, TILL THIS DAY THAT NARRATIVE ONLINE! IM STILL SEEING SO MUCH MISINFORMATION AND IT MAKES ME REALLYYYY ANGRYYYY!!! As a big fan of Callie, people completely outright ignoring her character arc THAT WAS SET UP SINCE SPLATOON 1 BY THE WAY!!! and not even bothering to look at outside sources for more information and lore genuinely pisses me the fuck off to no end.

No, hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL/BRAINWASHING! I DONT WANNA KEEP REPEATING IT! YOU CAN LOOK IT UP! if a person is genuinely uncomfortable and doesn't wish to take the suggestions to heart while hypnotized, THEY WONT DO SO! THEY STILL HAVE CONTROL! Yes, Marie did say "kidnapped" in some of her dialogue, but from her perspective, OF COURSE SHE'S GONNA THINK CALLIE GOT KIDNAPPED! She's known to worry about Callie all the time and ruminate about her, of course she's gonna think of the worst case scenario, doesn't mean she's right though. Was Octavio still in the wrong for hypnotizing Callie in the first place and allowing her to bring out her darker traits more easily? YEAH! NO SHIT! HE'S A BAD DUDE! Not a totally evil person but he has made some awful decisions out of desperation for his people. Why do you think he was so quick to help out the New Squidbeak Splatoon in the finale of Splatoon 3? His people got turned into fluffy monsters by a giant bear, he's all about helping his people.

Hell look at how Callie acts while under the Hypnoshades, she decorates Octo Canyon and her peppy and energetic self is still in tact even during the final boss, she's just more mean and violent. Callie was in an emotional and mentally unwell situation due to her overworking herself and being incredibly lonely as her relationship with Marie was damaged overtime. Callie accepted the suggestions of DJ Octavio and heard him out, AS SAID BY HER FROM THE RELATIONSHIP CHART! She wasn't forced into anything. She didn't suffer "sexual abuse" from Octavio by being forced into skippy clothing as some psychos say online, if she didn't want to wear that outfit she wouldn't cause hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL!! I hate having to repeat this over and over again, i hate how the developers basically rushed and ruined this interesting villain arc with stupid shades, only to try and hastily fix it later with an obscure post about A GOD DAMN RELATIONSHIP CHART THAT PEOPLE EITHER DONT KNOW ABOUT OR DONT CARE TO LOOK AT BECAUSE THEY SEE SPLATOON AS SOMETHING FOR KIDS AND TO NOT GIVE ANY CARE TOWARDS!!!!!!!!

I made a god damn giant blog explaining Callie in Splatoon 2 because i felt so frustrated about how my favorite character in the series was being treated and i tried to salvage the story that the writers tried to make. The way that people made her situation worse by saying she got kidnapped and forcibly ""mind controlled/brainwashed"" actually gave me chest pain, thinking about that kind of scenario for Callie actually hurts me... Heck i cant even listen to the Splatoon 2 stage music or final boss music because hearing her reversed vocals makes me feel uncomfortable due to the misinformation online. I hated all the misinformation and i wanted it to stop. HELL EVEN IN GIANT TIMELINE VIDEOS WHERE PEOPLE DO TONS OF RESEARCH THEY STILL GET IT WRONG!! UGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! i guess it'll still be the common and popular notion that Callie is an idiot that got kidnapped and then ""mind controlled"" by some shades... oh well... ugh...

I'm sorry if I'm coming off as really angry, i am. It's just, my brain is really hyperfixated on this squid and she means a lot to me. Seeing the way the fandom as well as the writers treat her makes me really mad. I hope i can find some peeps who feel the same way as i do. Misinformation is so frustrating man... i dont even wanna get into the Octarians because that's a whole other can of worms... anyways im done ranting. have a good night or good morning wherever you live y'all.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #callie cuttlefish #callie splatoon #rant post #complaining #sorry for the rant #octo callie #dj octavio #marie splatoon #marie cuttlefish #octo canyon

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jasmines-library · 3 months ago

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Revenge Best Served Cold

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WHUMPTOBER DAY EIGHTEEN: PROMPT: revenge

This is PART TWO of I’ll Make This Up To You from whumptober last year. Please read this first so it makes more sense. - part 2: in which Jason gets his revenge on the Joker.

Warnings: previous torture, fighting, medical terms and recovery.

Word count: 1.2k

MASTERLIST * WHUMPTOBER 2024

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Your recovery was…slow. And Jason hadn’t left your side since the moment you had been brought out of surgery. They had managed to fix your punctured lung, but your list of injuries had been extensive: A punctured lung, four broken ribs, both shoulders dislocated, your left wrist was broken and you were covered in multiple lacerations and bruises across your body. The wound to your thigh was fixed up with stitches. It was deep, but luckily didn’t cause too much long term damage. Alongside all of that, you had lost a lot of blood and needed a blood transfusion. Luckily everything went well and you had been recovering in bed for the last few weeks. At first, you spend your days in the hospital wing. But after that you were allowed to move back into your bedroom. You were strictly on bed rest, which Jason took very seriously. And it was a good thing too, you supposed. Whenever you were up and walking for your physical therapy or to go to the bathroom your steps were accompanied by an awful limp, which usually ended with you clinging on to whoever was there to support you. Usually Jason.

He seemed to take your condition personally. He was completely and utterly guilt ridden at the fact you had risked your life to save his. It didn’t help that seeing the Joker had resurfaced his trauma. He didn’t sleep a whole lot anymore. But then again, neither did you. He was feeling a range of emotions. Fear. Guilt. But one of the feelings that over powered the rest was anger. A deep, seething anger. He was angry at the curcumstance. At the Joker for what he did you you. At himself for letting you get hurt. But right now he had pushed that aside to care for you, though his anger was likely to bubble over any moment.

You stirred, rising from your nap. You spent a lot of your time sleeping. The medication you were on did help you heal but also made you extremely tired, but the doctors had claimed that the sleep was good to help you heal.

“…..morning” you mumbled, turning you head to Jason. “…..you’re still here..?”

“Yeah, of course.” He responded, tracing a gentle circle on the back of your hand.

“You haven’t moved, have you?” You frowned. You knew Jason had a habit of staying by your side as the guilt ate him up.

“I have.” He lied.

You just gave him a look that immediately told him that you weren’t falling for his bullshit.

He sighed. “Fine. No I haven’t.”

“Jay.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just…..I worry about you, kid.”

“I know…” you tilted your head at him softly “but seriously, jay. You need to look after yourself too.”

“I do.”

“No you don’t.” You responded quickly. “You sit here looking after me all the time. And I appreciate it, jay, but you need to take care of yourself. Please. Take the night off? Get some proper sleep.”

“Fine.” Jason agreed. “If it’ll make you happy, Kid.”

You smile kindly. “Thank you, Jay. It would mean a lot to me.”

Jason did not take care of himself that night. Instead, he slipped out of the manor, ignoring the orders that Bruce had given him. There was news that the Joker had escaped Arkham once again in the few weeks of your recovery. He was aided by Harley, of course. Bruce had ordered Jason to stay away from him. He knew how the cogs in his head worked. He knew Jason would be out to exact revenge. And he was exactly right.

Angrily Jason slunk through the streets. He had been researching the Joker for years since he was killed. He knew his likely hiding spots. And sure enough he found him deep within the cauldron.

The joker hadn’t even turned around and acknowledged Jason’s presence before he was being slammed against the table in front of him. Jason was angry, and slammed him full force against the wood before picking him up by the back of his shirt and throwing him against the wall.

The joker grunted before turning around and reeling his fist back. Jason caught it and twisted his arm awkwardly. The joker grinned that insane grin.

“Jaybird! I was wondering how long I would have to wait before you showed up.”

Jason slammed him back against the wall. He hit his head with a sickening crack. “Shut your damn mouth, Clown.”

“Now now.” He grinned. “I just knew you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me. Not after what I did your poor little sister. How is she by the way?”

“Don’t you talk about her.” Jason snarled.

“Ooh. Feisty. Hit a sore spot did i?”

“Shut your mouth.” Jay spat, landing a punch to the jokers face.

He was relentless in his attacks, leaving the joker black and blue. He had half beaten him to death, and likely would have if it wasn’t for Bruce, decked out as the Batman, yanking him away.

“Back down, Hood.” The Batman ordered. His voice was stern. Angry. Jason was going to be in a lot of trouble when they got back.

Jason staggered backwards, frustrated that he could continue his assault.

“Back off.” The Batman reinstated.

Reluctantly Red Hood let up with a grumble.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bruce yelled at Jason. The two of them were back home now, just entering through the mouth of the cave. “I specifically told you that you were not allowed out!”

“He hurt her!” Jason hissed. He was still seething with anger. “He tore her up and then laughed about it. And you expected me to do what? To sit there and do nothing while he roamed free? No. No way.”

Bruce shook his head. “You could have been killed.”

“He’s already killed me once. So what’s once more? And he nearly killed her too!” He snapped.

“You directly disobeyed an order.”

“That man doesn’t deserve to live.”

Bruce was silent for a moment. “Look, Jason. I know you’re angry-“

“Tt. That’s one word for it.”

“But you can’t let your emotions get the better of you. You might think that we’re doing this to spite you, Jason, but we’re not. You could have been killed. And we can’t loose you again. She can’t lose you. She needs you right now. We nearly lost her. We can’t loose you too.”

Jason was stunned. “I….”

“Please. I know you’re angry. I know it hurts. But you have to let us deal with it okay?”

Although he wished desperately that he could take matters into his own hands, Jason knew that Bruce had a point. He had expressed his own vulnerability to his son. He was scared of losing his child again. And that hit Jason hard for he was scared of losing you, or any of his brothers for that matter. “….okay..” he breathed out softly.

“Good.” Bruce nodded. “Now go and get some rest. Proper rest. Tim is watching over her. She’s asleep and well taken care of. You need to look after yourself too, Jason. Like you promised her you would.”

And with that, Jason retired to his room. The anger still lingered in his veins but it was less so. It was now overcome by an overwhelming sense of compassing and belonging for his family. And he knew, that he was safe. That you were safe at home and on your way down the road of recovery.

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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#whumptober 2024 #whumptober 24 #whumptober2024 #whumptober24 #no.18 #revenge #batfam x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #the joker #Batfamily #batfam #Batfamily x reader

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selfloverrrrrr · 7 months ago

Note

Can I request yandere gojo x fem reader where the reader is a special grade sorcerer and satorus best friend since high school,

After suguru she is the only one who understands Satoru well and Satoru can show his true emotions to her but what she wasn't aware was Satoru likes her since many years now but kept to himself since he knows he loves suguru since high school and still loves him even after his death.

As days pass by he was getting more and more annoyed at her to not get the hints that he likes her and when he had enough and confessed his feeling for her she rejected him.

And after that day he came back from a mission wounded and went to her saying it was her fault and started to manipulate and forced her to heal him, (since if she uses her healing technique to heal someone else other then herself it damage her own health, and because of that she was not physically strong) and with that after many times healing him her health was not so good which made her weak,

Not wanting to wait for her Satoru noncon her and force her to get pregnant since it will tie her to him.

And even if she tells the higher uppers about this they won't do anything and rather will be happy that two powerful clans members r having childen.

I'll have you

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I'm a old student of jujutsu high. I graduated from that school ten years ago. I'm still connected with the jujutsu high like some of my other friends. But life changed a lot...a lot means...A LOTTTT!!!

Everything changed after Suguru's death. After his death I was the only one who understands Satoru. And Satoru also showed his true emotions to me. Even after Geto's death Gojo put on a fake smile to everyone but always tells me how much it hurts him and how much he feels pain.

And I always gave him mental support. but what I wasn't aware of was Satoru likes me since many years now but kept to himself since he knows I'm in love with suguru since high school and I still love him even after his death.

As days pass by he was getting more and more annoyed at me just for not getting the hints that he likes me! One day when he had enough and came to me and confessed his feeling for me. "Look Gojo I really respect your feelings...but you know I loved Geto...and I still do" I said. "Yes but one day you will move on...right??" He asked got too much excited. "Okey...I guess I'll think about it that time...okey?" I replied with a smile. I rejected him. He started deep into my eyes and didn't say anything then he left.

One day Gojo came back from a mission wounded. He knocked on my door. When I opened the door I saw Gojo. He was wounded. "OML .... What happened?? Come inside" I said and locked the door after he came inside.

He fell on the floor after coming inside. I sat infront of him "Gojo are you gonna tell me what happened???" I asked. "I was on a mission" he replied looking at his wounds. "Haven't you infinity on??? Then how did it happened?!" I said. "I have to turn off infinity sometimes!!!!" He said in a annoyed tone. But that was an weird answer.

"Ain't you gonna heal me?" He asked. Yes healing technique.... I have a powerfull healing technique but whenever I use my healing technique to heal someone else other then myself it damages my own health. But I can feel some how he was angry on me so I didn't say no...cause I was kinda scared of his reaction.

And with that after many times healing him....now my health was not so good for which I was becoming so much weak. I fell on the floor. My body was too weak right now. When I looked at Gojo instead of seeing him worried I saw him smirking at me. He took me in the bridal style. But I felt one of his hand under my dress. And after a moment I saw him put me down on my bed.

I felt him caressing my inner thigh. "Look y/n....if you know that you are weak you shouldn't take the hard way with the strong one" he said smirking at me. "W-what you saying?" I asked feeling weak. "I'm saying you should've accepted me when I gave you the proposal and not going for the hard way" he said. Was he...?? no no no...that can't be...

Before I could react he pressed his lips on mine. His kiss was so rough. He started undressing me. I tried to push him away but he was too strong and my body was betraying me.

He grabbed my boob and started squeezing it and I moaned in the kiss. Hearing my moan Gojo stopped the kiss and crashed his mouth on my breast. I moaned out loudly. He started sucking on my breast roughly. The more I moan the more roughly he sucks and squeeze on my breasts."g-gojo please stop... I'm begging you please stop... you can't force like that " I begged. "I don't care about what you gonna say... you will be mine!!!...no one can stop me. I'm not sceared of anyone. You know I'm the strongest." He replied with a smirk.

After a while he let go off my breast. I was breathing heavily. He started undressing himself. He took off his shirt and pant. He was now only wearing his boxers. I can see the outline of his bulge through his boxers and there was a wet spot where the tip of his dick touched his boxer. Fear grabbed me by my neck.

His hand reached for my pantie and he ripped it off. He looked at my pussy hungrily. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and crashed his mouth on it, sucking on it roughly. I moaned so loudly. I tried to push him away by pulling his hair but nothing nothing nothing. He just continued his work. He pulled back and lined himself with me."please please please no no no" I cried. "Shhh....this is the main fun part" he whispered and slammed his whole length in one slide without any warning."Gojo!!!!" I scremed and grabbed his back."oh my fucking god god god god god god......ahhhhhhhhhhh" he moaned out feeling my warm wet walls around him.

His thurst became harder and harder. I was an moaning and crying mess."you are so fucking...ahhh .... tight" he moaned out. With a few more thurst I came. dig my nails on his back. Feeling my warm wall clenching around him he came within a minute. "Now bring my babies and be mine forever" he said before pulling out. Then fell beside me....

"I'm gonna tell this to the higher ups" I said before I fainted. He cackled. "Y/n you are too innocent...do you think those old shits gonna do anything when the big two clans are having children together?" He said in a seductive tone.

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